


Wait and See

by vondrostes



Category: Fashion Model RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Body Dysphoria, Body Image, Bottom Harry, Breast Fucking, Ex Sex, Exhibitionism, F/M, M/M, Multi, Pre-Poly, Public Sex, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Under-negotiated Kink, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-17 17:31:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18103160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vondrostes/pseuds/vondrostes
Summary: “I’m just—” Harry said, pausing to smooth out the wrinkles in her skirt. “I’m nervous,” she admitted.Cara reached out to tug at the hem of her skirt, guiding her over until she was stood between his legs. He pulled her down for a quick kiss, not wanting to mess up her makeup. It wasn’t time for that just yet.“You look perfect,” he reassured her. “And it’ll be dark, remember? No one’s gonna see anything we don’t want them to.”





	Wait and See

**Author's Note:**

> Cara and Harry are both trans. :) There's some mild body image/dysphoria stuff mentioned, but it's mostly just light-hearted smut. Enjoy!
> 
> Twitter: @vondrostes & @vondrostesupd8s  
> Tumblr: @vondrostes

“Are you sure it looks all right?” Harry did another twirl in front of Cara, showing off the cut of her new panties as her skirt flew up to reveal what lay underneath.

There wasn’t much. The panties were high-waisted, specifically designed to give Harry a more traditionally feminine silhouette, but they were styled like a thong in the back, leaving very little to the imagination. Harry’s skirt was high-waisted as well, designed to cover the waistline of the panties underneath. It was a deep red that matched her lipstick and contrasted with the cream-coloured blouse she’d tucked into the skirt itself, through which the black lace of her bralette was already visible.

“You look hot, babe,” Cara said as he lounged on the sofa, waiting for Harry to finish getting ready so they could leave already. He was pretty sure he’d been waiting more than hour already, but finally there seemed to be an end in sight.

“I’m just—” Harry said, pausing to smooth out the wrinkles in her skirt. “I’m nervous,” she admitted.

Cara reached out to tug at the hem of her skirt, guiding her over until she was stood between his legs. He pulled her down for a quick kiss, not wanting to mess up her makeup. It wasn’t time for that just yet.

“You look perfect,” he reassured her. “And it’ll be dark, remember? No one’s gonna see anything we don’t want them to.”

Harry nodded, but she still looked a bit nervous as she stepped away to grab her purse from the coatrack. Cara wasn’t sure there was anything else he could say to ease her anxiety; it seemed like the sort of thing they’d just have to work through as it happened. This was their first time after all.

Cara hadn’t spent much time in Manchester before he’d moved there a few years after uni, but Harry had spent her first year living in the city before transferring to LAMDA, so she’d known exactly who to contact regarding the queer social scene when they’d moved for Cara’s new job.

Nick Grimshaw was well-known for throwing the best parties, and a big part of what made them special was their exclusivity. Nick kept a finely-pruned guest list in the interest of keeping things discreet—and anyone who made it in was well provided for. Nick kept a fully-stocked kitchen in his refurbished Victorian, an ostentatious eyesore in the middle of an otherwise quiet neighbourhood and something that would have irked Cara to no end under other circumstances.

Cara wasn’t about to complain about Nick splashing his money, though, because it meant that he and Harry never had to waste theirs at a pub listening to a bunch of old men watching footie or watching straight guys strike out with anything that had a pair of tits—which sometimes included Harry if they were brave enough to face Cara’s resting bitch face. Those occurrences had become less and less after Cara started testosterone and bulked up a bit, but it didn’t mean there weren’t the odd catcalls in the car park whenever Harry went with him to do the shopping.

And that was the other nice thing about Nick’s parties. Attention was expected, welcomed even, because not a single damn person there was straight. Harry could get dressed up and feel safe in doing so, and Cara could enjoy himself for once without having to worry about whether his girlfriend was getting hassled by some chav in the kitchen while he talked to one of his mates—something that had happened on more than one occasion while they’d been living in London.

Manchester was better. All around. But it was time to take things to the next level.

Cara had known since they first started dating that Harry had a bit of an exhibitionist streak. She was always eager to engage in a bit of fondling in the theatre or in the back of someone’s car; they’d made out in front of their London friends more times than either of them could count, and they’d nearly done the same in Manchester already despite only having been there a few months. And now they were finally ready for more.

Because the defining feature of a Nick Grimshaw party was the Cellar.

The Cellar wasn’t for everyone. Despite its name, it was a comfortable lounge with modern décor that looked very similar to the interior of the rest of the house, but unlike all the other common rooms in Nick’s Victorian, the Cellar had one rule: there were no rules.

Now, in practise, that wasn’t strictly true. Nick was clear about certain codes of conduct for all his guests, no matter if they were in the Cellar or not, but the simple fact of the matter is that if you went down to the Cellar, you were responsible for anything you happened to see, whether you liked it or not.

And Harry and Cara had both seen a lot. Now Harry wanted to be the one doing the showing—the only problem is that there were certain things she didn’t want everyone to see.

Cara had been the one to find a solution to their issue: prototype lingerie that would help Harry stay tucked while still allowing access in the back so they could play to their heart’s content. They’d both talked things over beforehand and tested out Harry’s preferred outfit. The panties—and the skirt—would stay on no matter what. Everything else was free game.

Cara planned to remain fully clothed himself just to make things a bit easier, but that didn’t matter so much when he wasn’t the focus of their little display. Harry was meant to be the star of the show. It was her night.

The last thing either of them planned on when they walked into the Cellar, however, was the sight of Harry’s ex stood by the pool table, a drink in hand, his eyes carelessly roving around the room before landing on Harry herself as she stood frozen in place at the bottom of the stairs.

Cara grabbed her by the elbow and guided her forward, putting his mouth up against her ear. “I thought he didn’t come to these anymore,” Cara said in a low tone as they moved through the crowd. It was surprisingly packed. Cara wondered if Harry would have backed out even without the other snag in their plan just because of how many strangers there were.

He spotted a few more familiar faces along the way. Zayn and Liam were both there, friends of Harry’s from uni that she’d re-connected with after her transition. They were the only ones of the group besides Nick himself who knew that either of them were trans to begin with. Cara caught sight of Kendall, Taylor, Gigi—the whole gang pretty much. A full house.

Including Louis Tomlinson, it seemed.

Cara recognised him from Harry’s old Facebook photos, the ones she’d purged immediately after coming out so she could have a fresh start. Cara had never had the misfortune of meeting the other man in the flesh before this, but he knew they’d dated for years: throughout most of secondary school, college, and during Harry’s first year of uni. They’d broken up when Harry transferred, and that had been the end of that. It hadn’t been amicable.

“Nick didn’t tell me he was still on the list,” Harry replied, her voice pitching even higher than normal, cracking a bit under the weight of her panic.

Cara pulled her even closer. “We can leave if you want,” he said. “We can do this next month instead.”

Harry spun around sharply. She shook her head, looking surprisingly fierce. “No,” she said in a louder voice. “No, I want to do it tonight.”

Cara wasn’t sure that was the best idea with Louis hanging around, but usually, what Harry wanted, she got, and there was no point in arguing about it. They’d just have to play things by ear, then.

Playing things by ear meant a bit of mingling, hellos exchanged with Zayn and Liam, and then dancing—slow and dirty to the thumping bass that permeated the room from Nick’s overpriced sound system. When Harry finally pulled away, Cara knew it was time.

He grabbed Harry by the elbow, tugging her hard over to the pool table set up in the middle of the room. Cara pushed her down on it hard. He didn’t give her a chance to fight back.

Harry landed face first amongst the scattered billiard balls with a noticeable thump that cut through the hazy silence between songs and drew the eyes of everyone stood nearby, just in time for them to watch as Cara flipped Harry’s skirt up over her arse before giving it a solid thwack. Harry jumped, just a little, but relaxed into the second blow, letting out a loud whine that twined into the harmony of the next song as it started to play.

The spanking itself didn’t last much more than a few seconds, enough for a few people nearby to land a couple smacks against Harry’s pale skin, leaving her with pinkening handprints covering her arse and thighs when Cara hauled her upright again, her skirt still hitched up around her waist.

Harry gave a little gasp when she realised how exposed she was; Cara smoothed his hand down the curve of her side, reassuring her everything was fine. No one could see anything she didn’t want them to.

Cara turned Harry around so she was facing him again and then pushed her down to her knees. Harry already knew what she was meant to do. Cara didn’t have to say a word to get Harry to unzip his jeans. He stood stock-still as she pulled out the cock he’d tucked up against his waistband, not wanting to create an overly noticeable bulge while they’d been building up the anticipation. Now was the moment of truth.

Under the flashing neon lights and under the cover of the surrounding darkness, it was impossible to distinguish soft silicone from skin, and Cara breathed out a sigh of relief just as Harry took him into her mouth. He jolted as if he could actually feel it and then twisted his fingers in Harry’s hair, pulling her further onto his cock until she’d take him as far as she could before yanking her off again.

Harry’s tongue fell out of her mouth as if to ask for more. Cara slapped his cock against the flat of it in answer. “Get back up on the table,” he told Harry, backing away to give her some more room to manoeuvre onto it.

Cara may not have gotten anything out of Harry’s mouth around his cock (except for the satisfaction of watching her face while she did it) but Harry always got off on having a dick down her throat like nothing else. She laid down on her back, her head hanging off the end. Cara signalled for Zayn and Liam to get a bit closer and then gestured toward Harry’s outstretched arms. They caught on instantly, taking up positions on either side so they could hold Harry down while Cara pushed his cock back into Harry’s mouth.

Harry squirmed as her body fought against the intrusion. No matter how much she wanted it, her instinctual reaction was always to fight back once Cara got down far enough that she could barely breathe, but Cara kind of got off on that part as well. And judging from the hard line in Louis Tomlinson’s trousers as he watched from between Harry’s flailing legs on the other side of the pool table, he got off on it, too.

Cara’s eyes connected with Louis’s for just a moment as he thrust harder into Harry’s mouth, counting up to thirty in his head before withdrawing again. He looked down to find Harry’s lipstick smudged, her eyes watering, face pink with exertion and a lack of air. She looked gorgeous. Cara wanted to show Louis just what he was missing.

It was easy enough to get Harry on her hands and knees, this time facing Louis. Once she was comfortable, Cara let Zayn and Liam at her, both of them spanking her in tandem until she collapsed forward with just her arse in the air, shuddering with every impact. Cara knew she couldn’t get hard in her new panties, but he didn’t doubt she was well on her way to soaking through them already.

Finally, Cara decided she’d had enough. He climbed up on the table behind Harry and nudged her into place, helping her turn over again so that she was on her back, this time with her head pointed straight at Louis.

Harry splayed her legs out and hooked them over Cara’s hips as he rocked down into her, rubbing his cock over her panties to get a vocal reaction out of her before drawing back again. This was the tricky part, the part they’d been the most nervous about. Cara locked eyes with Louis from across the pool table as he reached down between Harry and himself, carefully pulling her underwear to the side and thumbing over the small buttplug before tugging it out and pocketing it in one swift movement.

Cara glanced away from Louis again to look at Harry instead, measuring her expression for any signs of discomfort as he lined himself up and pushed inside her in one slow movement. It was a bit drier than she was used to, he knew, but she took it well, panting out a soft, “More,” once Cara was fully seated inside.

Cara started up a slow rhythm that Harry matched by bucking her hips up to meet his, even as she tilted her head back to look straight at Louis, who shifted uncomfortably on his feet as Cara picked up the pace.

They hadn’t discussed having someone join in with the exception of Zayn and Liam, who knew exactly what to expect from this little experiment, but as Cara watched Louis and Harry’s eyes meet in the darkness, he had to wonder if she wanted something more. If Louis would be up for more. There was only one way to find out.

Cara pulled out of Harry without warning and ignored the little meep of protest she let out in response. He looked to Liam first, mouthing that he wanted to move her to the sofa so they could join in. If Louis followed…well, then Cara would have his answer.

Getting Harry off the pool table and through the growing crowd to the large sofa on the other side of the room was a rather involved process, and it cut through the haze of adrenaline crowding Cara’s mind a bit.

“Babe, do you want…?” Cara started to ask, not sure how to finish the thought. It was an insane idea, trying to ask Harry if she wanted her ex—who hadn’t even been into women, she’d thought at the time—to fuck her right here in front of a crowd of people they barely knew.

But Harry must’ve anticipated the question, or just didn’t care, because she nodded enthusiastically as she was led over to the sofa. “Yes,” she said as Zayn and Liam helped her out of her shirt and bra. “Please.”

Cara glanced over at Louis, who had made his way forward but still had some considerable ground left to cover. Cara was determined to make sure that Harry got everything she wanted.

There were other couples starting to undress all around them by the time Cara got inside Harry again, this time with Zayn’s dick in her mouth and Liam at her tits, straddling her chest as he rutted sloppily between her breasts. Harry had been surprisingly gifted in that department now that she was a few years out on oestrogen; Cara couldn’t fault Liam for going for her boobs rather than her mouth or hand instead.

It was impossible to keep an eye on Louis from the sofa with Harry underneath him, but Cara wasn’t worried. He knew Louis would keep watching till the very end.

Zayn came first, which wasn’t much of a surprise. Harry was almost too good with her mouth. Cara knew that all too well. Liam followed shortly after, leaving a streak of come against Harry’s throat before aiming the rest down at her breasts. He rolled off of her after that, giving Cara and the rest of the room a good view of Harry with her come-covered tits, her chest heaving as Cara fucked her ever-closer to an orgasm.

Cara couldn’t help but wonder if Louis was just behind him, watching Harry from over his shoulder. Cara focussed harder on Harry’s eyes, staring somewhere off in the distance with a surprising amount of clarity. Sources seemed to indicate yes.

Cara hiked Harry’s legs up higher and leaned forward, making sure he was thrusting directly into her spot on every in-stroke. The effect was immediate. Harry gasped, her eyes going wide as he thighs tightened around Cara’s waist. She came with a bit-off wail that was half-drowned out by the music and went abruptly limp.

Cara slowly pulled out of her before tucking his cock back into his jeans and turning around in hopes of catching Louis’s eye. He was stood right behind them as Cara had predicted, his eyes honed in on the tantalising shadow that lay between Harry’s spread thighs.

“You can, if you want,” Cara told him.

Louis’s eyes flicked up to meet his, still uncertain. Cara stepped forward and took Louis’s face in his hands, pressing his lips to Louis’s in one quick movement before stepping back again. A cheer interrupted from the crowd. They’d put on a good show thus far.

Cara settled into the cushions next to Harry’s head while Louis positioned himself between Harry’s legs and got his own cock out. Harry barely paid him any attention, lazily kissing Cara until Louis suddenly hitched her legs up and pushed inside her in one go, causing Harry to breathe out a loud gasp against Cara’s mouth.

Cara turned away then to watch as Louis pounded into Harry. He wasn’t trying to get her off again, and Cara wondered if he still knew that Harry liked to be used as nothing more than a warm body, a cock-sleeve to get off in. Cara couldn’t give her that, not right now at any rate, but Louis could.

Louis came with a loud grunt, grinding into Harry hard before making to pull away. Harry didn’t let him.

Cara sat and watched as Harry pulled Louis back down again to meet her mouth, noting the familiarity that still lingered even after years apart. Louis would make a good addition to their bedroom activities, Cara thought to himself. And now that he’d been reminded of just what he’d been missing all these years, Cara didn’t think he’d be too hard to convince.

They didn’t have a chance to talk it over until later, once Cara had gotten Harry cleaned up and plied her with food and water, though she’d resisted at first, complaining that she just wanted to go home and sleep. It was a bit of a drive back, though, so Cara made her sit down to eat under Nick’s supervision while he searched the house for Louis.

Cara found him on the stairs hanging out with Liam and Zayn, who appeared to also be mutual acquaintances. “Got a minute?” Cara asked, raising his eyebrows as he surveyed the other man, who examined Cara warily before finally nodding and getting up to follow him into the back garden.

“Let me guess,” Louis said once they were away from the hustle and bustle of the party taking place inside, “you want me to stay away from Harry; it was a one-off sort of thing; blah blah blah.”

“The opposite, actually,” Cara offered in a level tone. “Wanted to give you my number in case you ever feel like doing this again. Without the crowds.” He wasn’t the least bit surprised when Louis accepted.

Cara excused himself to go find Harry after he’d finished exchanging numbers with Louis. He decided to wait until they got home to talk out their future plans for adding Louis into things. Maybe tomorrow, he amended after taking note of Harry’s droopy eyes as she reclined in one of Nick’s kitchen chairs.

“Ready, babe?” Cara asked as he helped her into a standing position.

Harry nodded sleepily and followed him out of the house.

Either the drowsiness had just been a ruse or the walk had woken her up a bit, because as soon as Cara opened the passenger door to let Harry in, she dropped to her knees right there on the pavement, her hands groping for Cara’s belt without so much as a single word passing from her lips.

“You couldn’t just wait till we got home?” Cara asked as she made short work of his belt and trousers before just as quickly undoing the harness on his hips like she was eagerly unwrapping a Christmas present.

“Shut up,” Harry replied. She tugged his jeans down a little farther before leaning in to finally get her mouth around him.

Cara let out a groan as she sucked _hard_ , practically pulling all the blood in his body right to his dick in one go. “Fuck,” he hissed. He curled a hand into her hair and yanked. She gave a bit of teeth in return, and Cara shuddered. “Anyone could see you like this,” he told her, as if they hadn’t just fucked in front of a houseful of people. “Watch you being so good, taking me all the way.” He pressed her head down even harder and bucked his hips. It wouldn’t take much more for him to come after Harry’s display at the party.

Cara tugged her off with a rough yank of her curls when he came, oversensitive and gasping. Harry’s mouth was wet, her lips swollen from the abuse they’d endured, and Cara couldn’t help but lean down to press another rough kiss against her mouth before tugging his trousers back up again.

“I invited Louis to come round,” Cara told her, deciding to just come out with it right now.

Harry accepted Cara’s hand and slowly got to her feet. “And?” she asked, her eyes widening a bit in interest.

Cara shrugged. “And I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens next.”


End file.
